


Sleep, Child

by Mogi



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 17:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12988575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mogi/pseuds/Mogi
Summary: Kiibo doesn’t sleep. He waits. This time shouldn’t have been any different, but Kokichi gives him an unexpected visit in the middle of the night.





	Sleep, Child

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place almost immediately after the 3rd trial and will touch on a few spoilers from up until that point. Special thanks go to @morgenglorie and @actualalvin on Tumblr for beta-reading this fic for me!

Kiibo hated nighttime. To him, it was the loneliest and most nerve-wracking time of the day. During those hours he didn’t sleep; he waited. Every night he waited for morning to come, hoping that the others were sleeping safe and sound in their own beds.

It was lonely having nothing but his own thoughts to keep him company. Only once a week he had to recharge himself and even then he was conscious during that process. Recently he had noticed that Saihara, Momota and Harukawa would stay up for a little bit longer after the nighttime announcement to train outside together. He wished to join them, but not wanting to intrude, he usually silently observed them for a moment before heading inside.

What bothered Kiibo more than not having company, however, was that he had no way of knowing if everyone was still alive until after he had counted all their heads at breakfast. He had liked it better when the Student Council had put a rule in place that allowed only its members to be active during nighttime, but in the end that hadn’t saved anyone.

With the Student Council gone, things had gone back to the way they once were, which meant Kiibo was back to worrying through every night in solitude- or at least that’s what he had expected this first night without the Student Council to be like.

He had been reading one of the books on the human mind he had gotten from the library when the sudden sound of his doorbell ringing gave him quite the scare. No noise escaped him, but he did get to watch his book drop from his hands and close on the floor without any indication of where he had stopped reading.

Whoever was standing on the other side of the door left him no time to mourn the loss of not being able to use his bookmark because they started ringing his doorbell relentlessly. Fearing something bad might have happened, Kiibo quickly got to his feet and moved to open his door. When he did, he was greeted by the face of the Ultimate Supreme Leader carrying his signature wide smile.

“Why are you here, Ouma-kun?” Kiibo asked, worry in his voice. The harsh things Ouma had said to him were still recent in his memory. He could do without being called emotionless or a piece junk again.

“Why? I came to kill you, of course!”

“K-Kill–?!”

Those words were enough to make Kiibo stumble back. For every step he took backward, Ouma took one forward. It had been his mistake to not close the door when he still had the chance because now Ouma was in his room and there was no way he was going to be able to push him out with only the strength of a healthy senior citizen.

"Nee-heehee... I'm just kidding," Ouma sang, kicking the door closed behind him with his heel. “The rules say we have to kill a person and then not get caught, so there’s no benefit to getting rid of a useless scrap of metal.”

Usually, Kiibo would call Ouma out on his robophobia, but just this once he would hold his metaphorical tongue. He wasn’t about to give Ouma any reason to believe he would make for a good victim. Kiibo was already nervous having the Ultimate Supreme Leader in his room as it was.

“Again, why are you here, Ouma-kun?”

“Heeehh? Are you still asking that? Put that artificial brain of yours to work and figure it out yourself!”

That was all Kiibo would be getting out of Ouma as an answer. Ouma suddenly sprinted past him and jumped towards his bed, arms outstretched. The bed made a loud “not good” sound as Ouma landed on it face forward. Laughing mischievously, Ouma rolled over on his side and then onto his back. Kiibo could only narrow his eyes at the sight.

“This bed is wasted on you, Kiiboy. You should be thanking me for using it!”

“You’re staying?” Kiibo asked, his face betraying his surprise.

“I don’t know. Am I?” Ouma replied, his voice suddenly monotone.

Kiibo clearly wasn’t meant to reply to that, because Ouma rolled over again and turned his back to him. The robot sighed before moving to pick up the book he had dropped earlier. With book in hand, he sat back down on the desk chair he had been using before he got so thoroughly disturbed. “Suit yourself then.”

There was a moment of peace in which the only sound filling the silence between them was that of Kiibo quickly going through the pages of his book to find the part where he had left off. Kiibo could feel Ouma’s eyes on him. He tried to pay it no mind, but he only managed to pay attention to his book for so long before the intense stare of these purple eyes became too much to bear.

“If you’re staying, you should try to get some sleep,” Kiibo suggested, keeping his eyes on his book in an attempt to make it seem like he was still reading.

_“Heeeeeeeeeeeh?”_ The sound drawled out in a lazy manner, as if out of involuntary protest. “So it’s true, robots really don’t have a brain after all! As if I would sleep in the room of a potential murderer,” Ouma rolled around a bit on the bed again after he had said that, restlessly so, until he finally stopped after a full minute. His body remained motionless after that small tantrum.

Carefully, as if even the smallest movement would spring Ouma back into action, Kiibo looked over to see if he was still breathing. Kiibo was relieved to see the other’s chest go up and down still. To his surprise, Ouma seemed to be sound asleep now- the irony of that would have been hilarious to some, but Kiibo just went back to reading his book.

Reading was the most roundabout and inconvenient way for Kiibo to gain new information. Saving a digital version of the book he was reading would more efficient. However, because he had no internet connection at the Ultimate Academy for Gifted Juveniles, this wasn’t an option available to him. Regardless, even if it had been available, he felt as if he would have been spending his nights like this.

There was something comforting in turning page after page as so many humans had before him, just like Ouma’s slow and steady breathing was pleasant to listen to. Although their conversation had been short-lived and not at all desirable, Ouma wasn’t too bad when he was asleep. If anything, Kiibo would say he liked him better in this state.  

Being a quick reader (or as some might say in this case: a quick scanner), Kiibo finished reading chapter after chapter. Occasionally he shot a glance at Ouma’s sleeping face, smiling softly to himself every time before going back to reading. Just as Kiibo was thinking that being able to keep at least one person save through the night like this was nice, reality came in to burst his bubble.

Ouma had been moving in his sleep since the beginning as any human would, but at some point, it had evolved into the restless tossing and turning he was doing now. Another change to Ouma’s sleeping behaviour was the quickening of his breath. All the movement, as well as the ragged breathing, was a reason for concern to Kiibo. He slid his bookmark between the pages of his book before closing it and approached his bed to check on his guest.

Casting a shadow over the other’s trembling frame, he let out an unsure question. “Ouma-kun?” He leaned in, “Your body is signalling signs of distress. I will now attempt to pull you out of this state. I apologise in advance for waking you up.”

Kiibo reached a hand out to Ouma’s shoulder to shake him, but before he was able to, Ouma’s arms suddenly wrapped around his waist. A yelp escaped Kiibo as he was pulled down and onto the bed. In response to his scream, Ouma only held him tighter, like a bear trap setting its teeth deeper into its victim. Kiibo feared something bad was about to happen to him until Ouma’s sobbing registered with him.

“O-Ouma-kun? Hey…” No response. Kiibo was waiting for Ouma to reveal that these were crocodile tears as usual and that he was a stupid, useless robot for falling for such an obvious trick, but no such reveal came. There was a moment of hesitation before Kiibo returned the forceful embrace by taking Ouma in his arms.

Being unsure of what he should do next in a situation like this, Kiibo spoke the first thing to come to mind: “Fear not! You may cry on my chest if you wish. I am waterproof.”

Those words were good for a half-laugh, half-sob from Ouma. They stayed like this for some time; long enough for Kiibo to realize Ouma must have been having nightmares and that they were probably connected to his reason for coming over in the middle of the night to begin with. Kiibo was curious about what Ouma had seen in his nightmares, but even he knew better than to ask him about that now while he was still so shaken.

Ouma’s sobs gradually died down until the hands which had been so desperately holding onto Kiibo started pushing him away. For once Kiibo got the hint and let go of the other. Finally, he was able to have a look at Ouma’s face. The bloodshot eyes staring back at him only gave him more reason to believe those tears had been real.

“Whatever you’re about to say, don’t say it,” Ouma warned him through gritted teeth, his voice cracking mid-sentence, “or Iruma-chan’s next maintenance session on you will take a lot longer!”

Kiibo had never been good at reading Ouma, but even so, he was certain this was the most sincere he had ever seen him. Heeding Ouma’s warning, Kiibo didn’t ask him how he was feeling or what was wrong. Instead, he cupped Ouma’s face in his hands and gently wiped away the last of his tears.

“If you don’t want to hear me talk, then I will listen instead.”

A shaky sigh passed Ouma’s lips as his face relaxed in Kiibo’s hold. The supreme leader looked like he could and would cry more still, but instead, he gradually closed his eyes as he leaned into the robot’s touch. _‘He’s only a child,’_ Kiibo caught himself thinking as he silently studied Ouma’s features closely. Somehow Ouma seemed even more boyish like this. He looked soft, vulnerable. _‘He doesn’t deserve this.’_

Ouma eventually opened his eyes again but avoided making eye contact as he pushed Kiibo’s hands away. When Ouma finally did look up to meet Kiibo’s gaze, his eyes were fierce and burning with an emotion Kiibo couldn’t place.

“You got some guts to tell me that... It better mean you plan on sticking around,” He paused briefly to take a sharp breath, “I need anything but a broken scrap of junk in my life. I don’t need you to listen, I just need you to live.”

_‘………… Huh?’_

Kiibo’s blush setting went all the way up as he put his recording of Ouma’s words on repeat. The heat coming off of him was so great that the temperature of the room went up by a few degrees.

“Y-You’re not making any sense!” Kiibo pulled his mask over the bottom half of his face to hide how hard he was blushing. His chest plate felt warm and he wondered if it was anything like having your heart beat fast, “Just a few hours earlier you were telling me that you were going to kill me.”

The seriousness which had surrounded Ouma ever since he had stopped crying disappeared immediately. He tilted his head to one side, his face expressionless as one hand reached for Kiibo. Just as Kiibo had been about to ask him what he was doing Ouma started knocking on his head loudly.

“Hello? Hello? Anybody home? Whoa, there _really_ is nothing in there!”

“Correct. My motherboard and other essential components are stored in my chest.”

“Don’t outsass me.”

Kiibo wouldn’t pretend to understand the situation he had found himself into. Was this the same person who had told him all robots should be destroyed? He couldn’t differentiate the lies from the truth. Thinking that Ouma had to be messing with him as usual, Kiibo pulled his mask down again as his blushing function turned off.

“If you don’t want me to talk or listen, then that doesn’t leave me with a lot of options,” Kiibo mumbled, twiddling his fingers, “I will go back to reading and you should try to get some more sleep.”

“No,” Ouma replied immediately. He shook his head as he looked at Kiibo with tired eyes, “No, I… I don’t want that.”

The fear of going back to sleep wasn’t something Kiibo could relate to. He didn’t know what it was like to dream or to have nightmares. Even so, he realized that the images and sensations Ouma had experienced in his sleep must have been terrifying. What was Kiibo to do to make him feel better?

Needing guidance, Kiibo turned to his inner voice, but strangely enough, no reply came. The silence shook him. This was the first time his inner voice left him in the dark. However, without the help of the inner voice that usually guided him; the decision he made next was no one’s but his own.

“I could sing you a lullaby. _Song of the Cradle_ has never been sung for me, but I know the words and the rhythm.”

What Kiibo failed to mention was that he had been practising singing this song in secret. He had sung for Saihara once before. The detective had hated it and even gone as far as to call his singing terrible. Kiibo had given up on becoming an idol after that, but nevertheless he had wanted to get better at singing by experiencing the hardship of training.

Ouma pulled up an eyebrow at him, but otherwise seemed to be intrigued by Kiibo’s suggestion. The child lay back down without a word, nuzzling his face into Kiibo’s pillow and closing his eyes. Kiibo took that as a sign he was allowed to start. Not needing to take a breath, his signing voice came out immediately:

_“A canary sings_  
_A cradle song_  
_Sleep, sleep,_  
_Sleep, child!_

_Above the cradle,_  
_The loquat fruits sway_  
_Sleep, sleep,_  
_Sleep, child!_

_A squirrel rocks_  
_The cradle by its rope_  
_Sleep, sleep,_  
_Sleep, child!_

_Dreams in a cradle,_  
_With the yellow moon shining down_  
_Sleep, sleep,_  
_Sleep, child!”_

Kiibo had sung his lullaby uninterrupted. He expected Ouma to be asleep again now, or at the very least for the other to praise him. No such thing happened. Instead, Ouma rolled over onto his stomach and groaned into the pillow, “Hu wah horobel.”

“Y-You don’t mean that!” Kiibo replied, his face heating up again, “I practised a lot! You’re lying.”

A defenceless yelp escaped Kiibo when Ouma threw the pillow at his head. After the impact of the throw, the pillow hit the floor with a soft thud. Although Kiibo couldn’t feel physical pain, he still reached for his forehead and got “teary” eyed.

“I would never lie to save your feelings because that would imply you have any. Your singing made me want to throw up and that is the truth,” Ouma did look like he was about to throw up, but if that was because of Kiibo’s singing or the fact that he was telling the truth was anyone’s best guess.

While still sitting on the edge of the bed, Kiibo turned around and bend over to pick the pillow up from the floor. He hugged the pillow to his chest when he moved to face Ouma again. There was quite a convincing frown on Kiibo’s face as he pouted at Ouma.

“You are mean to me. You insult me and you don't appreciate anything that I do!”

“Well, duh. You’re a piece junk and I'm an evil supreme leader, remember? Those are our roles. You gotta play by the book, Kiiboy! Imagine if you started using your head and thinking for yourself. That certainly would be a tragedy.”

Kiibo’s frown gradually disappeared from his face. His anger subsided despite being openly insulted. Ouma was right, that was the kind of relationship they had now. Still, did it really have to be that way?

“We could start over,” Kiibo suggested, his voice soft, “We both said a lot of things that you're going to regret, but I think we can put our differences behind us. I am K1-B0, the Ultimate Robot! But please, address me as Kiibo!”

“Do robots have dicks?”

“I said start over! Not _repeat_!”

The serene yet cheeky smile Ouma offered Kiibo was just barely enough to make up for the hurt Kiibo felt at getting his suggestion shot down. He could only assume this meant Ouma liked their relationship the way it was. Kiibo couldn’t say if he agreed with that, but that fact that Ouma seemed to have cheered up a bit did help to lift his spirits as well.

“Riiiggghhht,” Ouma finally replied, rolling his eyes and ruining the mood exceptionally fast, “I’m bored now. This conversation is over. I’m leaving, but I’m taking this with me,” Ouma had already yanked Kiibo’s pillow from his hands before Kiibo could do as much as “blink”.

“What? No, wait–!” Kiibo reached for Ouma to stop him, but the little devil was too fast. By the time Kiibo had gotten to his feet Ouma was already at the door. The Ultimate Supreme Leader sniggered as he opened the door and then put a finger to his lips in one swift motion.

“Don’t fantasise too much about me until morning. If you do have a dick, then keep it in your pants.”

And just like that, Ouma was gone. Baffled, Kiibo stared at his closed door. He took a few steps backward and felt behind him for his desk chair before allowing his legs to buckle under him. The desk chair creaked under his weight as he plopped down on it.

Kiibo’s heart felt heavy as he leaned back and began to slowly spin around on his desk chair. Only once he began to feel dizzy did he grab the edge of his desk to stop himself from spinning further. He pulled himself closer to his desk before placing his elbows on top of it. Leaning forward, he folded his hands and gently bumped his forehead against them.

He understood nothing, except for one thing.

“Don’t go dying on me either.”


End file.
